


Heat IV: The Final Countdown

by dontcryMasha



Series: Angel Season [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Het, Interspecies Sex, Masturbation, Multi, Nephilim, Sad, not sure yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-18 05:28:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3557789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontcryMasha/pseuds/dontcryMasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the last chronological story of the Angel Season series, Mary the Nephilim has reached an early adulthood and everything seems to be at peace. Her brothers and sister are happily living in the bunker with their parents, Cas and Dean, and the world is rid of demons--until an evil presence begins causing trouble again. If Mary takes it upon herself to destroy the culprit once and for all, will she be successful, or will a naughty little thing from the past called "heat" stir up even more trouble for her? Read the notes first!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome! I know a lot of people had been requesting a fourth story in the Angel Season series, so here we go. This is the last in the chronological series, meaning I might write extras and whatnot, but they will not continue the plot (they’ll be during the pregnancies again, etc). This is it. If you've had questions in the earlier fics, ask them now or forever wonder!
> 
> Before we get started, I need you to know three things—First, there is a lot more heterosexual sex in this than the others, both this series and my writing as a whole. Second, this story is not Destiel-centric. It rather follows Mary. Yes, there is plenty of Dean, Cas and the rest of the family, but they aren’t the main plotline. And finally—technically the sex with Mary and others is underage, but I haven’t flagged it as such because, as the story will explain early on, *she is physically matured to the level of a 20 year old.* So technically speaking it’s underage, but she is mentally and physically an adult. I hope this isn’t a problem for anyone. I apologize for the lack of gaylove, but that’s just how this story has developed.   
> Get your tissues ready!

 

It’s around midnight and the world is silent. A streetlamp flickers outside of a small suburban home, but other than that, all is still. Within the home, a baby has just been put down to sleep, his mother touching his forehead gently while humming to herself. She thinks something along the lines of, “He’s finally asleep” or so, sighs contentedly and leaves the nursery in the hopes of finally getting some sleep. But there is a sound downstairs that stops this from happening. Assuming it to be her husband, she descends the stairs sleepily, rubbing her eyes as she follows the noise into the living room.

“Go to bed, hon,” she mutters, but stops in her tracks when she sees a woman standing by a bookshelf. She’s quite young and wears a long, brown braid.

“Oh!” the intruder gasps, looking surprised but also delighted to see the mother.

“What are you doing in my house?!” The woman growls. She suddenly turns from a loving mother into an angry bear.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come at this time.”

“ _Who are you?! What are you doing in my house?!_ ”

The older woman, a blonde, slowly takes steps backwards and towards the kitchen, knowing that a gun is on top of the refrigerator. The young lady doesn’t move. She examines the blonde curiously.

“Answer the questions!”

“Please,” says the brunette, “I have no intentions of hurting you. I’ve come to talk.”

The mother pauses.

“About what?”

“You.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d like to get to know you.”

“ _Why?_ ”

The young woman turns to the bookshelf and lifts up a small, framed photo. The older woman is pictured standing beside her husband.

“You’re Mary, aren’t you?” the brunette asks. The older woman gasps sharply.

“How do you know?”

“Hah…is Dean here?”

“ _Dean?_ ”

“Oh, he isn’t…have you not…”

The younger of them puts the photo down and scratches the back of her head. For a moment, her eyes flash a blinding grey. Mary has yet another sudden change to her demeanor and she bolts to the kitchen, rummaging through a bottom cabinet with fury but still trying to be silent enough that her family doesn’t wake up. Surprisingly, the intruder doesn’t even take a step.

“It hasn’t been ten years yet,” Mary says when she returns, her face looking grey as she opens a glass milk bottle now filled with water. “I don’t know why you’re here.”

“Ten years? What ten years?”

“Get out!”

Water is splashed all over the young woman but nothing happens. In fact, it feels good. She smiles and closes her eyes. “Holy water? Do you think I’m a demon?”

“Who else has eyes like that?”

“What, like these?”

Again, the grey glows brightly. Mary shields her eyes. There is a tiny, high-pitched ringing sensation in her ears.

“What about these? Do demons have these?”

Along with the eyes, this young lady now conjures a pair of brilliant wings on her back. They glow in beautiful unison with her eyes and Mary is speechless. She falls to her knees.

“Y-you’re an angel, aren’t you?” she whispers.

“Almost.”

“Almost? How can you be almost?”

“I’m half.”

The wings fold away and disappear as do the glowing eyes. The woman remains on the floor, shaking now, but the Nephilim stoops down to her level and touches her shoulder.

“Why are you here?” Mary asks.

“I wanted to talk to my grandmother.”

“…your…grand…mother?”

“Yeah.”

The young woman nods. “You’re my grandmother.”

“Then your—“

“Dean is my father.”

“And your mother is—“

“An angel. Yes.”

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, my god.”

Mother Mary falls into her granddaughter’s embrace and begins to cry. It’s unclear if they are tears of sorrow or happiness. Perhaps they’re both.

“Why does my baby boy know an angel?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh…oh, no, no!”

The blond woman looks up with red eyes. “Why have you—you’ve traveled time, right?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you travel time to see me?”

“Because I’ve never met you. Um, well, my father talks about you _all of the time_.”

“Then I’m dead?”

“I don’t think it’s my place to tell you these things.”

The woman cries harder.

“Stop! Don’t be sad.”

“B-but, ooh…I don’t even know what to think!”

The Nephilim hugs her grandmother tightly. She brings her pretty wings out again and wraps them around her. This makes mother Mary hear a soft twinkling, not unlike a music box, calming and soothing in her ears.

“My father is amazing,” she says. “He’s a wonderful father. He’s doing an incredible job raising me. There have been troubles, but all is well now.”

“Is that true?”

“Yes. All is well.”

“Oh, my…oh, granddaughter. I can’t believe it! What’s your name?”

“Mary.”

“Mary! Ah! He’s a momma’s boy after all.”

“I think so?”

Mother Mary sits back from the Nephilim’s embrace and wipes her eyes, laughing through tears. “Are there any more of you?”

“Three.”

“Three! Wow! Dean and his angel lady must be pretty busy.”

“Um. Right.”

“And you’re all half-angel?”

“Yes.”

“Incredible. I’m so happy to meet you, despite the revelation.”

“Me, too. I just wanted to know my namesake. But I have to go back now, sadly.”

“Really? You can’t stay?”

“Sorry. It’s hard to pull off a stunt like this!”

“Then wait. Hold on. Err…”

Mother Mary stands up and starts going around the house frantically. She picks up a couple of things, moving from room to room, all the while young Mary stands in the living room awkwardly.

“Take these back home, would you?” Mother Mary asks, giving her granddaughter a bag. “You can do that, right?”

“I think so.”

“It would mean a lot to me.”

“I’ll try. Thank you.”

“Oh, Mary…”

The blonde woman takes her granddaughter’s face in her hands and kisses her nose. She hands to stand on her toes to reach her.

“So tall, too! Dean must be a tall boy.”

“He is.”

“Handsome?”

“That’s what I’m told.”

“Smart?”

“He has his moments. He’s strong and brave, silly at times.”

“That’s great. Oh, that’s so great. Tell him that I love him, won’t you?”

“I will.”

The older woman begins to tear up again.

“And I love you, too.”

“I suppose I love you as well, grandmother. Goodbye.”

“Bye, Mary…”

**SNAP!!**

With a great flash, Mary pops back into her present time. The bag goes spinning out of her hands and hits the floor.

“Oops!”

She stumbles to grab everything and puts it up on her bed. Checking the time, she’s only been gone a couple of minutes. Good! And she feels alright, too. That was a successful first time bending reality.

_Knock knock knock…_

“Mary?”

It’s Castiel.

“I heard a noise that sounded like the manipulation of a wormhole. Are you doing something you shouldn’t be?”

“No!”

“May I come in?”

“Ah!”

Mary throws a blanket over the bag.

“Yes!”

The door opens up and an unchanged Cas walks in. He’s been working in the yard and has a dirty gardening apron on. Ellen, now eight years old and bright blonde, follows. She’s a shy little girl and is stuck to her mother like Velcro.

“What were you doing?” asks Cas.

“Studying.”

“What manner of studying?”

Mary clears her throat.

“F-family things. You know. Dad was telling me about my grandparents the other day so I was doing a little research.”

“Oh. Well, all right, then.”

Cas sniffs.

“I still think something is off. If I hear anymore strange noises, you’ll be in trouble.”

“I’m fine.”

“Mm. Okay. Take care of yourself. Come on, Ellen. Let’s plant those um, what were they?”

“ _Roses_ ,” the little girl’s tiny voice says.

“Ah, yes. That’s right. The roses.”

Once they’re gone and the door is shut, Mary pulls the bag out from her blanket and dumps the contents out onto her desk. There are numerous photos, a couple of tiny trinkets and—oddly enough—a slice of pie put into a small glass dish. Mary fingers the objects curiously. They’re necklace charms or something. She sits down at her desk and examines the photos next. They are mostly pictures of extended family, she guesses, and Dean would value them better than she could. There is a baby in a few, and the back of the pictures names him Dean. “Oh,” Mary thinks, “I guess she _had_ had him.”

Before she can get any further, her bedroom door slams open _again_ , only this time comes twelve year old Bobby. He’s getting tall, too, though it will be a while until he’s hitting the 5’10” that Mary is. His development is more typical of humans; he looks like a normal twelve year old boy, whereas Mary, who is currently sixteen, has blossomed into the final stage of development. She appears to be around twenty.

“Please don’t come in without knocking!” Mary shouts at her brother.

“Hey! Where’d you get _that?_ ”

He points to the pie.

“Stop. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Is that _pie?_ Why do you have _pie?_ Can I have some?”

“Bobby, please.”

He tightens his fists and starts to shout, “MARY HAS PIE AND SHE WON’T SHARE IT! MARY HAS PII-IEE!!”

On cue, Dean rushes into the bedroom. He’s not too far away from hitting fifty now and it’s pretty obvious. After complaining about the slight extra weight he was putting on, Cas insisted that he take better care of himself. So he isn’t getting any fatter, but instead he has frequent aches and pains and he’s wrinkling more every day.

“Where’s the pie?!”

“There!” Bobby yells, pointing.

“Hey, that’s weird. Mary, where’d you get this container?”

Mary widens her eyes. There’s no stopping it now. Dean comes over to the desk and picks it up. He sniffs.

“Mary—where—did—you—get—this?!”

“Um…”

“Are you time traveling?!”

“Ah! No! I’m not! I swear.”

Her eyes flash grey for a moment and Dean laughs.

“You know Nephilim are terrible liars,” he says. Mary groans.

“I’m sorry! I was just so curious about grandmother after you were showing me those pictures.”

Dean sighs. “Bobby, can you go help your mama with the gardening?”

“That’s baby stuff,” Bobby grunts.

“Bobby. Out. Now.”

“Okay, okay…jeez…”

Dean clears close to Mary and whispers, “Did you go back and see your grandma?”

“I did.”

“She gave you this pie?”

“And these.”

Mary pushes the photos and charms into Dean’s sight. The man freezes upon seeing them.

“Holy crap.”

“Is this okay?”

“I won’t tell your mom.”

“Thank you.”

“But promise _never_ to do it again.”

“I won’t. I’m sorry.”

“You’re way smart enough to know that fudging around with that stuff can seriously mess stuff up. You make one wrong move and suddenly I never meet Cas and then you aren’t born.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Dean kisses Mary on the top of her head and she smiles.

“But I need this.”

He grabs the pie.

“It’s for you, anyway,” Mary says. “Also, grandmother wanted me to tell you that she loves you.”

Dean holds the pie close to his chest and takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes painfully then claps a hand onto Mary’s shoulder.

“I know,” he says stiffly, trying not to cry. “Thanks. You’re a good girl.” Mary grins. Dean chuckles.

“We talked about this, _dad_.”

“Right, right. You’re a good _woman_. A beautiful young woman. I mean, damn if we weren’t related—“

“Stop!”

“Sorry.” Dean clears his throat. “Forget I said anything. I’m gonna help your mama with the gardening.”

“O-okay. But don’t show him the pie!”

“I’ll have that first.”

“Haha, all right.”

Dean leaves with the coveted pastry and Mary is once again alone. She drums her fingers on her desk and looks at the many journals she has been keeping. The memories of being stuck inside the bunker, dreaming of the big world come flooding into her mind. That’s not a problem anymore because she’s allowed to leave. She has decent control over her powers and can blend in with humanity quite well. In fact, she even has a job. It’s not much but it gets her out of the bunker and earns some money. Okay, well, Dean got a job, too. There just hasn’t been any demonic activity to make a profession out of hunting anymore. After Mary trapped Crowley in the black cage, Hell hadn’t been active at all.

“Crowley,” Mary thinks to herself. “I wonder how he’s doing down there?”


	2. Chapter 2

Like many people who are naturally curious and intelligent, Mary works at a bookstore. It has been helpful to overcoming her initial awkwardness and learning more about the big world.

One day as she is crouched to shelve books, someone approaches her from behind and says, “Excuse me, dear.”

Mary stands and turns to see a small thin woman with drapes of red hair. She speaks in a heavy Scottish accent as she asks, “I don’t me to pry, but I happened to notice that beautiful tattoo.”

The Nephilim suddenly tugs at the back of her shirt and blushes. She had no idea that her lower back was that exposed. “Oh, um, thank you,” Mary says quickly.

“What sort of meaning does a thing like that have behind it? _If_ you don’t mind me asking.”

“It’s just something I got for my dad.”

“Aah, how lucky of him to have such a lovely daughter! And your parents must be quite the lookers, too.”

“Lookers?”

“Mm,” the woman nods, “Attractive, dear.”

“Oh. I suppose they are.”

“Now I don’t mean to keep you any longer. Sorry for all the fuss, I just _had_ to say something.”

“Okay, then. Thank you.”

“Have a _lovely_ day.”

The woman waves and she disappears behind a bookshelf, leaving Mary with a sour feeling in the pit of her stomach. She returns to stocking shelves but she’s not too pleased with it. The end of her shift comes not a moment too soon and she waits in front of the store for her ride.

“Hey girl,” a deep voice says as a car rolls up.

“Dad.”

Mary hops in the front seat of the Impala and puts her hands in her lap. Dean smiles. “Have a nice shift?” he asks.

“Maybe. How was your day?”

“Not bad, but I think I’m starting to get too old for this.”

“Too old? Why is that?”

“You know how you won’t grow or age anymore now?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’ve told you before, but I _will_.”

“Right.”

“And aging involves getting weaker and tired and—hey, let’s not worry about that now, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I never thought I’d make it this far so I should consider myself lucky!”

Mary sighs at that statement. She leans her head against the window and stares out with glassy eyes.

“Something wrong?” her father asks.

“Concepts I don’t quite grasp,” Mary mutters. “But not just that. I had a strange thing happen at work today.”

“Strange how?”

“A woman asked me about my tattoo.”

“That happen a lot?”

“Never. But I rarely allow it to be seen.”

“So what was strange about it?”

“It felt odd. She had an unsettling vibe to her.”

Dean groans.

“Ugh, you angel-folk with your intuition.”

“What?”

“We’ll ask your mom about it when we get home and see what he makes of it.”

After getting back to the bunker, Mary goes ahead inside to find Bobby at the main table. He has a couple of books in front of him and he’s grumpily writing in a notebook. While the Nephilim grow up, Cas has been teaching them everything they need to know about Heaven, Hell, Earth and human life. Mary took to the studies quite well but Bobby has been struggling. He doesn’t understand why he should know how to kill a ghost when Sam and Dean haven’t been actively hunting for years. “You have to be informed,” Cas would say.

“Where is mom?” Mary asks Bobby.

“Dunno. Kitchen, maybe.”

“All right.”

Mary finds Cas with the twins trying to cook in the kitchen. Dean follows. There’s a tray of something crinkled and dark green sitting on the counter.

“The heck is _that_?” Dean asks. “Better not be dinner.”

“They’re kale chips,” Cas tells him, sounding as if he’s reading the words for the first time, “And they’re _good for you_.”

Dean pops one into his mouth and grimaces, but Mary has a couple with a smile. “I like them,” she says. “They’re nice.”

“I’m glad you think so,” says Cas, who is attending to a proper pot on the stove while Sammy tugs at his apron, “But I’m not as worried about your cholesterol.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Dean grumps. “What’s in the pot?”

“Fish stew.”

Dean’s moan is even louder and more desperate. He slumps over and staggers behind Cas, rubbing his shoulders as the angel stirs. “You’re killing me,” he sighs.

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid,” Cas retorts. “I’ll have you know that I’m quite up to date on my study of the human body.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Try it.”

Cas holds the spoon out to Dean and he retracts.

“They’ve gotta have made some healthy food that tastes good by now?”

“Mama says it _does_ taste good!” Ellen adds, looking up at Dean with her wide hazel eyes. They flicker grey for a moment. “And it’s special for daddy to eat it.”

Dean sighs again, but this time it has a stronger air of acceptance. “Well, if it’s special…”

He tries the stew and is pleasantly surprised at the taste. Mary, however, is still munching on the kale chips and looking a bit distraught.

“Weren’t we going to discuss what happened today?” she asks, and Cas suddenly snaps his head to Dean with fire in his eyes.

“What happened?!” he hisses, taking the protective mother stance that he rarely has to use. Dean tries to diffuse it.

“Nothing serious, I’m sure,” he says, going back to rubbing Cas’ shoulders. “Some woman at the store asked her about the anti-possession mark. Give me another taste.”

Cas offers Dean a second sample of stew but keeps his focus on Mary now. “What did she say?”

“Not a whole lot,” Mary explains. “She wondered what the meaning was. I told her it was something I got for my father but, in my better judgement, I did not reveal the true purpose.”

“Intelligent,” Cas nods. You can see that he’s quite proud of raising such a brilliant young woman.

“Then she mentioned that my parents must be attractive,” Mary added, now looking a bit confused. Dean snorted.

“You didn’t tell me that,” he laughs. “I don’t think this is a problem at all. Maybe she was hitting on you.”

“No, there wasn’t any physical contact.”

Dean laughs again but Cas appears a little concerned. Ellen is still oblivious as she plays with Cas’ apron. Sammy has been keeping himself busy with a set of Lincoln Logs at the table this whole time, though he may be listening.

“Your father means to say that the woman may have been expressing _romantic interest_ in you,” Cas clarifies, but this leaves Mary just as confused.

“Then I have to tell her that reproduction with two females is impossible.”

Dean and Cas look at each other silently. Dean clears his throat but stays silent and Cas keeps stirring the stew. He lowers the flame.

“I know that our family is unusual in our homosexual reproduction,” Mary adds, as if that would ease the tension. Ellen repeats “homosexual reproduction” and Sammy finally lets out a laugh. They don’t understand it at all, but Mary is hardly more informed.

“Perhaps we should discuss this later,” Cas suggests.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Dean agrees. He looks over to Mary and says, “Let’s worry about it after dinner, okay? Go get Bobby.”

“Um. All right, then.”

* * *

 

“How did we mess that up?” Dean groans, coming into the bedroom with a towel around his waist. “Why didn’t we ever give her _the talk?_ ”

“I don’t think a specific conversation is entirely necessary,” Cas ponders. “I never had one.”

“Yeah but you fucked up a lot. And look how long it took for us to get comfortable with our feelings. I don’t Mary to have trouble like that.”

“You have a good point.”

Cas strips down to a pair of tight briefs and Dean gets into a t-shirt and boxers. He eyes his partner. “Those are cute,” he says.

“I think we have more important things to talk about,” Cas quips, getting into bed. “Come here.”

Dean climbs under the covers and they both sit up with their backs to the headboard. Cas takes Dean’s hand in both of his.

“Mary’s physical and mental growth has well surpassed the rate of whole-blooded humans. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’s been, to put it crudely, _sexually mature_ for a while.”

Dean winces. “Y’think?”

“It’s merely a hypothesis.”

“But it sounds like she wouldn’t even know if someone hit on her. What if some punk ass young guy tries to get fresh with her and she gets talked into a bad deal?”

“Hmm…”

“We have to at least try talking to her so we know where she stands, as painful as it sounds.”

“We could show her the babysitter video.”

“ _No_.”

“Hmm…”

“Man, I wish Sam could do this part of the parenting for us.”

“Why?”

Dean furrows his brow. “’Cause he’s good at explaining things in a technical way without putting it into unnecessarily graphic detail.”

“I’m sure we can do just as well together.”

Cas squeezes Dean’s hand slightly and gives him a kiss.

“Yeah, I bet we can,” Dean agrees. “What about Ellen and Sammy?”

“What about them?”

Dean scoots closer to the angel now and puts his head onto his shoulder. “The other two matured pretty fast, but does it ever feel like the twins are _slower?_ ”

“How?”

“Ellen still talks like she’s four.”

“I don’t think so.”

“And she’s so attached to you.”

“I’m her mother.”

“The others weren’t like that.”

“They’re all unique individuals.”

“Ah, I guess you’re right.”

“Dean, this means a lot coming from me, but you must _try_ and not worry so much.”

“Ha!” Dean laughs loudly. “Sorry. But yeah, that _is_ big. You worry about them more than I do.”

Cas decides to sink down into the bed properly now and Dean joins him. He gestures to the lamp and it turns off. “I understand the angelic side far better,” he says quietly, “And that is to be feared far more than the human one.”

Across the hallway in Mary’s room, she tosses and turns in her bed, pulling the sheets this way and that. She can’t understand why a woman would have romantic interest in her and more so how couldn’t she detect it? There was certainly a weird vibe about that interaction. She talks to people all day and nothing like that has happened before.

 _Hmmmmn, hmmmmmn_.

Her phone rings but only the vibrate is on. It’s sitting atop her nightstand and hums loudly. With the glow bright in her face from the room being dark, she makes out the caller’s number as _666_.

“Odd.”

She ignores it. A message is left.

“Odder.”

There’s no way she will sleep without listening to it. When it begins to play, she hears a familiar voice that she hoped to never hear again.

“ _Hullo, Mary…don’t pretend you’ve forgotten about me. Be a darling and return my call. I’ve got nothing better to do, you know._ ”

It’s Crowley without a doubt. Mary feels a surge of white hot emotion run down her spine—is it fear or anger? Perhaps both. She ignores the message and tries to sleep, but sure enough, he calls _again_ just a couple minutes later. Another message is left.

“ _Well then, if I don’t hear back from you now, I know I will soon. Things are about to get rather complicated for you all and the first person you should turn to is me. Ta-ta._ ”


	3. Chapter 3

 “I shouldn’t tell mom and dad,” Mary thinks when she wakes up. Of course there is some debating this, since Crowley practically threatened danger if she didn’t call him back, but he’s in the black cage so what could he possibly do?

It doesn’t do any good to worry about so, Mary dresses and follows the chatter in the kitchen. The ruckus is generated primarily by Dean and Cas.

“You’re up late,” the angel comments, tending to eggs on the stove. Ellen stands close by and watches her mom. Dean is wrestling with Bobby at the table while Sammy is buried in a book.

“I didn’t sleep very well,” says Mary. She takes her usual seat at the table and rubs her eyes.

“Do you have work today?”

“Yes. Soon. Dad, could you give me a ride?”

“Su-ure,” Dean says while he takes Bobby in a headlock.

“Ow, ow!” Bobby yelps.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Dean, stop,” Cas interrupts in a monotone. Dean sighs loudly and lets his boy go. Bobby huffs, smooths out his hair and plops down into his seat. “Don’t be such a bitch,” he says.

“Hey!” Dean yells. “Language! You know your ma doesn’t like that.”

“ _Ma?_ ” Cas asks. He turns around to look at Dean but only gets a comical shrug as an explanation.

Mary struggles to engage her family. Part of her thinks she should say something about Crowley, but the Winchester in her insists she remain quiet.

After Cas finishes cooking, he plates it all and joins his family at the table. His eyes are fixed, worriedly, on the eldest daughter. “You’re quiet,” he says.

“I’m tired.”

“You do understand that sleep isn’t _required_ for you, yes?”

“I know, but I’m in such a habit of it that any irregularity upsets me.”

Dean leans over to Cas and whispers, “Let her be a grumpy teenager.” Cas practically ignores his advice.

“I suspect something more complicated than lack of sleep is causing this diminished enthusiasm.”

“No,” Mary insists. There’s little more Cas can do, so he moves on, much to the rest of the family’s relief.

Breakfast is finished and Dean gets ready for his day, then scoops Mary up and they’re off to work. He kisses Cas goodbye and leaves. As the two drive into town, Mary is still very quiet.

“Sure everything’s all right?” Dean asks over the radio.

“I’m sorry that I bent time,” Mary says quickly. She keeps her focus out of the window.

“Hey, it’s fine. I already told you that there’s no punishment for first offenses. Well, as long as your mom doesn’t know.”

“I’m aware, but still…”

“Let’s just be happy that nothing went wrong.”

“Yes.”

Mary sighs. Dean turns the radio down almost all of the way. “I know what it’s like to be a Winchester,” he says, “Especially a _young_ Winchester. When people say _no_ , you tell yourself _yes_. When someone says _don’t_ , your brain insists _do_. For this funny reason, it doesn’t matter who tells us no, be it family or friend or demon, we just have to resist it. So I get how you feel. But you just _have_ to understand how dangerous time travel is. Your mom is nearly an expert on it by now and he’s only done it a couple of times ‘cause he knows how risky it is.”

“Have _you?”_

Dean hesitates. He might be a better liar than his angelic family, but his heart won’t let him.

“Y-yeah,” he stammers. “But mostly against my will!”

“How?”

“It’s complicated. You know all of the crap that went down before you were born.”

“Ah…”

“Don’t worry about it. But, well, yeah—I’ve met your grandmother later, too. She doesn’t remember me, though, but I’ve spent time in the past.”

“Really?”

“That’s why I can’t blame you too much. I mean, I have _some_ memories of her, but you never knew her at all. ‘Cept for now, I guess.”

“Yes.”

“And she knows who you are?”

“She does.”

“But it didn’t change anything, huh?”

“I don’t believe so. She understood it all quite well, I’d say.”

Dean smiles. His eyes crease with delight and he wets his lips. “Yeah,” he says, “Mom was good about understanding stuff, that’s for sure.”

They arrive at Mary’s bookstore and she departs for the day, not before telling her father that she’ll use her wings to get home (since Dean’s off before her). This is all okay and Mary goes to start her shift.

She is on high alert for anyone “hitting on” her, thought she doesn’t know how to detect such behavior. Naturally, there’s an unsettled feeling following her around for the whole workday. It also doesn’t help that she’s worried about Crowley, so she checks her phone every now and then, half-expecting him to have left another message. Her boss warns her politely that phones ought not to be used while on the floor.

Despite her worry, nothing unusual happens at work, but she’s still eager to get home. She ensures that nobody sees her and instantly zaps away, reappearing close to the bunker (because of the warding, the kids have to go through a couple checkpoints via the front door and can’t apparate directly inside).

Nobody is in the kitchen. It’s too late for dinner. Mary will have to go without food or get whatever leftovers remain. Checking the fridge, it looks like everyone fended for themselves tonight. She gets a glass of juice and a granola bar, then notices a soft twanging coming from deeper within the bunker. She follows it to a lounge-like room they’ve prepared some time ago, with sofas and a couple of small tables. Dean is playing his guitar while Cas reads to the twins. Bobby is sitting next to Dean. Mary comes in and everything stops.

“Hey,” says Dean. “Have a good shift?”

“Yes,” Mary answers quietly. She takes a seat beside Cas and is immediately pounced on by Sammy. “Hi, Mary!” he chirps.

“How are you feeling?” asks Cas.

“I am all right.”

“Good.”

Dean keeps playing again. He smirks at Cas and says, “This one’s called, ‘Mama’s got a big ol’ butt.’”

Bobby immediately cracks up, laughing just like his father. His eyes close and mouth opens wide, body hunching over. The Winchester genetics are strong with the boy and he barely resembles Cas at all. He acts and moves just like Dean, but there is a hint of Sam in his face, too.

“It’s not funny,” Dean warns, plucking the whole time. “Mama _does_ have a big one, but it’s _fine_.”

“Dean, please,” Cas says quite simply.

“No fun,” Dean groans. He glances at Mary. “Why don’t you hang with us for a while?”

“Sure.”

Mary has her snack while Dean keeps playing. He begins to sing _Dust in the Wind_ but Bobby stops him.

“No, it’s too sad!” he complains.

“Life is sad something, buddy.”

“But right now?

“It’s a good song!”

“But, da-ad!”

Their stupid argument gets interrupted by Dean’s phone ringing. It’s a video chat from Sam.

“Yo, Sammy! Interrupting family time as usual.”

Sam’s face on the phone screen isn’t as humorous. He doesn’t even pay attention to what Dean said.

“There’s trouble,” he says.

“Huh? Like what?”

It’s been a long time since they’ve heard that. Cas puts the book down and immediately goes to Dean’s side, disturbing Ellen a little. She clings to her mom’s leg. Mary watches them all with a bad feeling in her stomach.

“I’m not _sure_ ,” says Sam, “But the vibes are feeling strange around here. Crystal notices it, too.”

“Really?” Cas asks.

Obviously, Sam’s girlfriend eventually learned about his past. He didn’t want to keep secrets, no matter how odd they might be, and he also wanted her to know the entire family. It was nice to have a handful of relatives to spend holidays with.

“Yes,” Sam explains. He looks to the side. “Hey, Crystal? Come here and tell the guys what you’ve been noticing.”

A chubby blonde woman cuts into the screen and waves. She isn’t her usual perky self.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asks. Cas stares with great focus.

“This might sound crazy,” Crystal begins, “But I keep thinking someone is watching us. It feels like there are faces—energies--all around the house. There’s a constant creepy vibe.”

“When did it start?” asks Cas.

“It’s been happening for about a week,” says Sam. Crystal nods.

“Put up protection charms,” Dean instructs.

“We always have them,” Sam tells him. “Dean , I know bad feelings. This is bad. It’s been forever but something is wrong.”

Dean pauses for a moment. He exchanges looks with Cas, all the while Mary is growing increasingly nervous.

“Get over here,” says Dean. “Pack up your stuff and head out as soon as you can. It’s safer. Maybe we can figure it out.”

“Great,” says Sam. “We will. Thanks.”

“You bet.”

By the time the phone call is over, Mary has already gone to her room. She isn’t sure what to think. Maybe her uncle is overreacting? But considering what Crowley said…is it time for her to call him back? No. Not yet. Nothing bad has happened, only “vibes” and “feelings.” That means nothing.

* * *

Big surprise, Mary doesn’t sleep. She wanders the halls a couple of times, worried about what might happen. Her brain is wracked with stress. Perhaps she should just come clean to her parents about the calls from Crowley, then the three of them could contemplate what’s happening.

She walks by the twins’ room and looks at both of their beds. Ellen is holding her precious stuffed elephant to her chest, a mess of blonde hair spread over the pillow. Mary now realizes how much her little sister resembles their grandmother.

Some noise comes from Dean and Cas’ room, taking Mary’s attention from the twins. She takes a couple of steps towards their noise, careful to stay quiet. Listening in, she hears them talking softly.

“ _Hey, that’s nice_ ,” Dean’s voice hums. “ _Keep doing that_.”

“ _I’m glad you like it._ ”

“ _A little different, but you look great. And—wow—look what you’re doing to me! Hoho!_ ”

Mary scratches her head.

“ _Ah, I enjoy it, too!_ ” Cas chirps. He grunts loudly.

“ _Hnnng, good, good. Aah!_ ”

They both gasp and huff for a few moments, then it falls quiet. Mary waits for more talking but it sounds like they’re quickly falling asleep. She has questions, but they can wait until morning. Until then, she wanders the bunker painfully.

Once the sun rises and the family begins to wake up, Mary makes coffee and has a cup in the war room. Cas is up next. He’s wrapped up in a terrycloth robe and his hair is a hot mess.

“Good morning, Mary,” he groans.

“Morning, mom.” She suppresses a yawn with a sip of coffee. “The pot is still hot.”

“Thank you.”

Cas goes to the kitchen and gets himself a cup then rejoins Mary. He sits across from her. “Did you sleep poorly again?” he asks.

“I slept none, actually.”

“What troubles you?”

With a sigh, Mary leans back in her chair, puts her hair behind her ears and mutters, “This issue with my aunt and uncle.”

“I understand,” says Cas. “At this point, it’s all quite unclear. But they’ll get here and we will begin to piece together what’s happening. Try not to worry.”

“I will try.”

The collar of Cas’ robe slips to the side and Mary instantly sees three great big hickeys—not just bruises, but deep teeth marks. She gasps.

“Mom?!”

“Ah.”

He claps his hand over the marks and they instantly heal. His eyes dart away from Mary.

“What was that?” she asks. “What happened?!”

“Nothing dangerous,” Cas reassures her.

“Who hurt you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Mary’s mouth won’t close. First, Sam is getting weird feelings and now her mom is mysteriously injured?

“Did..what…I don’t understand.”

Cas takes a deep breath. “It’s nothing dangerous, you must take my word for it.”

“But those were teeth marks. Why would anyone bite you? It wasn’t a vampire, was it?”

“Um. No, actually. Not at all.” Blushing, Cas whispers, “It was your father.”

Mary frowns with great disappointment and shock. “ _Dad?_ Did you—what was—after—“

“Oh, Mary. I’m sorry about this. You know, we’ve been debating this, but we need to have a talk.”

Before Cas can get on with the world’s most awkward conversation, Dean comes busting into the room. He’s wearing boxers and nothing more, his hair is as messy as Cas’ but his face looks completely devastated. Cas stands.

“Dean?”

Dean is holding is phone out towards them.

“It’s Sam,” he stammers. “C-Crystal’s _dead_.”


	4. Chapter 4

“No, no!” Mary cries. She feels partially responsible somehow.

“Sammy,” Dean says into the phone, trying to be as calm as possible, “You need to get out here _now_. Whatever is after you is too strong. You’ve gotta come here.”

“ _I-I’m heading out now_ ,” a sad voice whimpers on the other line.

“I’ll get him,” says Cas.

“No,” Dean argues, “I need you here with the kids. Send Mary. She’s stronger, anyway. You know that.”

Mary, who has her hands to her mouth, holds her breath and stares at her father in disbelief. “Must I?” she asks.

“Yeah, you must,” says Dean. “Your uncle is in trouble and you’re the strongest of us all. Use your wings and go get Sam. Bring him here.”

“I, but I—“

“Listen to your father!!” Cas yells. The sudden fury scares Mary, despite her ability to easily take her mom out. She nods frantically.

“Yes,” she agrees quite timidly. “Yes, I’ll go bring Sam here.”

In a flash and a flap, Mary is gone, leaving the couple in a panic. Dean tries to calm everyone down but it doesn’t help much. The noise has woken up Bobby.

“What happened?” he asks, stumbling down the hall and yawning. He has his wings out and gives them a big stretch. Dean winces.

“Please,” says Cas, “Not around your father, and not right now.”

“All right, all right,” Bobby grumps. “So what’s going on? Who died?”

He was being funny, but when he sees the looks on his parents’ faces, it isn’t amusing at all. He doesn’t say anything.

“Your aunt Crystal,” Dean mutters. His eyes are empty.                                                                        

“Wha? How? _Why?”_ The young boy’s nose twitches in an attempt to hide his upset.

“We don’t know,” Cas adds. He comes to Bobby’s side and pats him gently. “Mary is getting your uncle Sam, now.”

“But…”

“You see, Bobby,” his mother continues, “You were born after all of our troubles ended. You’ve heard our stories, but experiencing the painful repercussions of evil is something you’ve never had to live through. I’m sorry…but…we’ll sort this out. We always have, and we always will.”

“I…”

In a big swoosh, Mary returns with Sam. He’s completely frazzled and utterly distraught. Nobody has ever seen him looking so terrible. Dean gets up and gives him a hug, which Sam dives into as if he doesn’t ever want to let go.

“It’s okay, Sammy, we’re here. You’re safe now.”

While they do their best to calm Sam down and figure out what may have happened, Mary silently backs away. She heads to her room and takes her cellphone out. She knows who’s behind this. She knows what she must do.

“ _Aah, Mary, Mary. I had a feeling I’d be hearing from you_.” Crowley’s delight is enough to make anyone sick.

“What did you do?” Mary hisses into the phone, her voice filled with rage and pain.

“ _Hmm?_ ”

“You kill my aunt!”

“ _An aunt?_ ” Crowley asks, genuinely surprised. “ _There’s a third Winchester?_ ”

“You know who I’m talking about!!”

“ _Deepest regrets, Mary darling, but I haven’t the slightest idea of what you mean. Remember, you’ve kept me in this black cage for…oh…considering a month in Hell feels like ten human years, A BLOODY LONG TIME!_ ”

“Don’t play dumb with me!” Mary growls. “My aunt Crystal is dead and the blood is on your hands. Tell me what’s going on!”

“ _Oo, I just_ love _it when you talk Dean to me._ ”

“What?”

“ _Listen, Mary, I’ll give you all the answers that you want, but on one condition…_ ”

Mary doesn’t answer.

“ _You come down here and we talk face to face_.”

“No. That’s a trap. I’m not an idiot.”

_“Ugghh…what part of ‘most dangerous and powerful creature in the entire universe’ do you not understand? I’m powerless against you! We all are!”_

“Well…”

“ _Come down here and have a chat. No tricks, no gimmicks. Just you and I talking out our differences. What do you say?_ ”

With some hesitance, Mary agrees. She quickly ends her phone call and sees what her family is up to. Ellen and Sammy are out now and everyone is having a great big sob in the common room. Mary feels terrible, not just because she’s talking to Crowley behind their backs, but a nagging feeling says she could have prevented this by answering the demon’s earlier calls.

“I really thought she would be _the one_ ,” Sam says. “I thought we were done with this…I thought the cycle was broken…”

“It’s going to be all right,” Cas reassures him. Ellen crawls into Sam’s lap and agrees with her mom, parroting his movements exactly.

Mary steps into the room now with her hands behind her back, toying with the phone.

“Um, uncle Sammy?”

Sam turns around and looks at Mary with bloodshot eyes. He smiles when he sees her, but the pain doesn’t fade at all.

“Mary…”

“I’m sorry, uncle Sammy.”

“You don’t—it’s okay. Thanks.”

Sam gets up and gives Mary a hug. She leans into the embrace but doesn’t get too comfortable—it doesn’t seem right, not after the phone call.

“I have some business I need to do,” Mary explains cautiously.

“Business?” asks Dean. “Like _what_?”

“A hunch I need to follow up on.”

Cas glares at her. “You aren’t going to follow any hunches without our involvement. What have you found?”

“No, no, please. It’s not a big deal. I want to pursue this on my own, as…as a testament of my maturity.”

Cas eyes Dean suspiciously.

“Let her do it,” Sam interjects. The parents look to him with unreadable expressions. “She’s smart, she’s strong. If she can’t save herself, I doubt you two could.”

“Ey,” Dean growls.

“No, Dean, he’s right,” Cas agrees. He turns back to Mary and gives him his blessing. “If you need assistance, let us know, but…but you may ‘follow up’ on your lead.”

“Thanks, mom.”

Mary swallows the lump in her throat and heads off to the family supply room. Years upon years of rigorous study has proven infinitely useful to her. Her brain has always been the best part of her body and the most powerful tool available. She takes everything she needs to get downstairs, then loads up a gun with salt bullets. Even though the world has been free of enemies, Dean still taught Mary all the necessary evils.

Loaded up and ready to kick ass if need be (of course, her Nephilim powers are really the only weapons she needs, but in her mind it’s better to have “human” ammunition as well), she goes back to her room and begins complicated spell work to get the gates open. It comes naturally to her. A seal on the ground opens up ominously and Mary jumps right in.

* * *

It has been years since she walked the halls of Hell, yet she knows exactly where to go. Surprisingly, it is still vacant. Mary has half expected the epicenter of evil to be alive and well considering what happened to Crystal. But no—all is quiet, just like the first time she visited as a child.

“Do I sense a Nephilim?”

Crowley’s voice echoes down the last hall before his chambers. Mary takes a deep breath and goes inside. That room, too, remains empty aside from Crowley’s cage. He sits unchanged, leaning on the arm of his throne with one leg over the other.

“I am here, Crowley.”

“My, my, you’ve certainly--”

As Mary approaches, Crowley straightens up and stares at her. His brow raises and expression falls flat.

“— _filled out_.”

“What?” Mary asks sharply. She walks right up to the cage with her hands on her hips. Crowley looks her over.

“This is a surprise,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

“What are you talking about? We’re supposed to be discussing important matters.”

“Right, of course.” Crowley blinks hard and looks up to Mary. “Tall, too.”

“What? Why does that matter?”

Once more, Crowley closes his eyes real tight for a moment. “It doesn’t, it doesn’t. Right. So, here’s the current problem at hand…”

Mary waits. She has fire in her eyes and isn’t going to take any bullshit.

“You see,” Crowley continues, making a conceited effort to avoid eye contact with Mary, “Though I’m still in this cage and the demons are in hiding—if not mostly killed—one other person has come out of the woodwork and is trying to do my job for me.”

“Your job? But who?”

Upper lip twitching, Crowley stiffly admitts, “My _mother_.”

Mary would laugh if humor was a bigger part of her life, but instead she just stares at Crowley in disbelief. “Like Castiel?”

“No, not like Castiel,” Crowley corrects. “ _My_ mother is just a witch. But a very powerful one. Still haven’t figured out how she made it to this era, but she’s out and about. Probably the one who killed your aunty—any chance she was Moose’s lady?”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Sam. Sammy. Moose. Did he marry?”

“Oh. Yeah, Crystal was his girlfriend…”

Mary thinks maybe she has said too much. For some reason, she doesn’t have any problem running her mouth. It seems that Crowley is having the same troubles.

“That’s a shame. Sorry to see his happiness dwindle. No matter, he’s a big boy and he’ll get over it. For now I’d like to make a proposition…”

“I doubt it,” Mary says. Crowley stifles a laugh.

“My mother is going to undo everything good you and your family has done,” he continues. “She’s going to keep me in this cage, obviously, and use that to her advantage so she can be Queen of Hell. That doesn’t sound so good, does it?”

“I’ll put her in a cage, too,” says Mary.

“Not so simple,” Crowley retorts. “She isn’t a demon, only a witch. An extremely manipulative, ever-growing powerful and—tch— _seductive_ sorceress. You might be the most powerful creature in the universe, but if you get manipulated, well…”

Crowley forms a sick little smile and his eyes fall to Mary’s body once more. He makes a small grunt and looks away.

“What are you proposing we do to stop this?” Mary asks. She assumes Crowley is talking bullshit, but just to be certain, she follows along.

“Get me out of here,” says Crowley. Mary frowns. “Get me out and I swear I will help you take out my mother. When I’m done, you can put me back in this cage.”

Mary shakes her head. “No way,” she says. “Why would you want me to do that? You certainly don’t want to go back in the cage.”

“I hate my mother,” Crowley hisses with a great frown, “And I would _never_ want her to take my title wrongfully. I would rather stay in here for eternity than see that.”

“I don’t believe you,” says Mary. “I seriously don’t believe you. Goodbye, Crowley.”

The Nephilim turns around and walks out of the hall. Crowley tightens his fists. “MARY! IT’S GOING TO GET WORSE UNTIL YOU AGREE WITH ME!!... _Blast_.”

Once Mary is absolutely gone, a woman comes out from another room. She has long red hair, a flowing dark dress and speaks in a smooth Scottish accent. Mary would have recognized her immediately.

“T’was definitely her,” the woman says.

“Yes I know, _mother_ ,” Crowley quips. “I know who she is.”

“You’re going to have to be more conniving to get her trapped.”

Crowley sighs. “She’s hard headed and doesn’t trust anyone. What are we to do?”

“I’ll have to think about that,” the woman says, pausing with a pensive look on her face. “We’ll figure something out, I’m sure of it.” Then she turns to Crowley and points a condescending finger at him. “Just don’t you make contact with her!”

“I won’t!” Crowley barks.

“I already saw it growing in your eyes!” the woman continues. “You aren’t to mess around with one of them! Those Nephilim!! She’s matured now, and if you so much as _touch_ her—“

“I _know_ , mother! I KNOW!! I have no interest in her aside from getting out of this bloody cage and taking control of my domain once more.”

The woman leers at Crowley through distrusting eyes. “If you’re sure of that,” she hums musically. “She don’t know it, be she’s a wicked seductress to the demon folk.”


	5. Chapter 5

Mary has been gone longer than she thought, but luckily nobody checked in on her room while she was downstairs. She comes flying out of the seal she made and lands on her feet, gasping from the wicked ride back. After readjusting herself and taking off the weapons she strapped on, she goes out into the hallway to look for her family. Nobody is around. She decides to peek in on Sam who is surely in his old room.

Most of his belongings left with him years ago, but the bed and desk remain. Dean always thought it was smart to keep the bed made up “just in case Sam needs it.” Unfortunately for today, he does.

“Uncle Sam?”

Mary knocks on the door and gently comes inside. Sam is sitting there, hands in his lap and staring at the wall.

“Oh, hey, Mary…did you find anything with that lead you had?”

She nods a little bit and joins him on the bed. Her uncle looks so much more tired and worn out than she has ever seen. His hair is still below his ears but it’s become almost entirely grey. Mary swears it’s gotten worse since the last time he visited.

“Aunt Crystal’s death wasn’t an accident, I don’t think,” says Mary, trying her very best to be gentle (this is sometimes hard for her; consider her mother).

Sam sighs. “I don’t think so either. It’s too much of a coincidence.”

Mary places her hand on Sam’s shoulder to console him. He leans into the touch and sighs again, heavier this time.

“I believe it was Crowley’s mother.”

Sam pauses. He turns to Mary and stares at him as if he misheard something.

“ _What?_ ”

“Crowley’s mother,” Mary repeats.

“Crowley’s _mother?_ How? Isn’t he hundreds of years old? That doesn’t make any sense. And why do you think that?”

With a twinkle in her eye, Mary lightly bites down on her lower lip then lies, “I had a premonition. I saw him in Hell, telling himself that his mother was behind this.”

“Do you have premonitions often?”

“No,” Mary says, shaking her head, “However I’m changing every day. My powers develop and I get stronger, so—“

“It would be stupid to write it off,” Sam interrupts. He nods knowingly at Mary and thanks her. “How do we follow up on this?”

“We find out where his mother is and I kill her. What do you know about Crowley’s past?”

“Some. But if his mom is strong enough to do all of this, can you take her on?”

Mary nods.

“I will always be the strongest entity in the universe.”

If Sam knows what’s going on, Dean and Cas will have to be told as well, so Mary excuses herself and seeks out her parents. Dean is napping, Bobby and Sammy are working on a game together while Cas and Ellen are in the garden. Mary goes outside and approaches her mother.

“Mom?”

“Oh, there you are, Mary. I was wondering where you’ve been. Did you make any progress on the lead you have?”

“Yes, in fact.”

She tells Cas the same lie that Sam heard. Cas is more agreeable to the initial theory.

“Ah, that makes sense,” he says. “Then we’ll have to track her down. I know that your uncle and father looked into Crowley’s history once, and I’m sure that the documentation is intact somewhere.”

“All right, thanks.”

“But, Mary?”

“What?”

Cas stares at his daughter from beneath the brim of a wide sunhat, taking a break from preening tomato plants.

“What?” Mary asks again after no reply.

“It’s nothing…be safe in all that you do.”

“I know, mom. I will. Thanks.”

Mary smiles before going inside, leaving Cas with Ellen. She’s been silent this whole time, standing by her mother and toying with a weed at the base of the tomatoes.

“We’re supposed to pull those,” says Cas, peering down at the girl. She stares back up at him and blinks her green eyes, then cautiously takes the root in her fingers and pries it out. She seems quite confused.

“Ellen, I’m certain you retained this knowledge.” Cas squats down beside her. “We pull the unwanted plants out so that the ones we desire can grow better.”

“Okay,” Ellen says in her tiny voice. She drops the uprooted weed and sets her eyes on the tomato plant. Cas takes his gardening gloves off and touches the top of Ellen’s head, sighing sadly. “What’s wrong, mama?”

“Ah, you don’t remember this but your sister Mary was once an avid gardener.”

“Really?”

“Yes. When she was younger than you, she learned to harness her powers for growing things. I’m not sure what happened.”

“Oh…”

Ellen puts her hand flat on the ground and focuses on it, but Cas is staring someplace else with a sad frown.

“Perhaps it’s my own fault,” he wonders. “Perhaps that ordeal with Dean and the curse, then staying with Crowley, had corrupted her more than I realized. Oh…she’s still a genius, a beautiful genius. I don’t doubt that her heart is in the right place, but…but I miss how she gardened with me…”

A couple of sprouts poke up beneath Ellen’s hand, and as she raises it up, they grow along with her. “Like this?” she asks. Cas looks down and smiles greatly.

“Yes!”

“This is fun!” Ellen laughs. She stands up and begins orchestrating the plants, moving her hands in wild directions as the tendrils wrap around themselves. Cas also stands up and puts his hands out. Ellen grows giant morning glories from the tips and giggles at her mom, but when she sees what he’s doing, she stops. The flowering vine remains in its place. “Mama, why can’t you make flowers?”

“I can,” says Cas, “Just not as effectively as you. Nephilim are far more gifted than their parents.”

“Oh…I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s fine,” Cas smiles. “I would prefer if you had the glory. That makes me happy. And even so, I still have incredible powers that help me greatly. But you all are my greatest hope.”

“Greatest hope?” asks Ellen.

“Yes. It’s really quite complicated, but—you, myself and your three siblings cannot die unless we are killed. The five of us will live eternally. I have great hopes for you all, since with pure and good minds you could, and _have_ ushered in a new world order of peace.”

Ellen tilts her head, so much like Cas, and narrows her eyes in confusion. “New world order of _peace?_ ”

“You wouldn’t realize it because it started after you were born,” says Cas. “That’s why this danger that threatens us now must be taken out, and taken out by _us_. We’re the strongest coalition of creatures in the entire universe, just the five of us…”

Cas is unaware, but Mary did not go back inside right away. She went around the corner and stood there eavesdropping on his rambles to Ellen. She puts her hands on her heart and feels bad. The little tree that uncle Sammy got her, years and years ago, was once the light of her life. She had been so curious about the world, making wonderful things happen—but where did it go?

“It doesn’t matter,” Mary thinks to herself, “Because I have to be _strong_ now, not beautiful. I must be the most powerful Mary possible so I can take on Crowley’s mother.”

* * *

“Rowena Mcleod is her name,” says Sam. Following Mary’s lead has forced him out of his depression and back into research mode. He hasn’t been “hunting” in so many years that it’s almost a relief to be back. Dean is with them in the study and he’s been filled in on the latest news. “But she could be anywhere.”

“That’s fine,” says Mary. “I can find her. I know I can.”

She gets up suddenly and walks out, leaving Sam and Dean alone. Dean drums his fingers on the table and takes a deep breath.

“You doin’ all right there, Sam?”

“Not great but all right.”

“Mary’s smart. She’s sort this out.”

Sam sighs stiffly. “I know she will, I don’t doubt that at all. But I still worry.”

“I know, I know, me too. I’d prefer myself on the front lines, but it just isn’t practical.” He glances down at his hands. “I mean, look at us—we’re turning into old men. We can’t fight like we used to. We can’t jump fences. Hell, I dunno about you but if it weren’t for Cas, I’d need Viagra.”

“ _Dean_ ,” Sam groans painfully. “Please.”

“Sorry, but it’s true.”

“I know it is,” Sam agrees, “And it’s hard but it’s life. I suppose the most daunting part of this is how I never expected to last this long.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, nodding. “Ain’t that the truth. But I’m sure as shit glad that I did. My kids? They’re _awesome_. They’re…they’re unexplainable.”

Mary has gone to find Bobby. He’s still playing with Sammy Junior but that’s soon put to a stop.

“Bobby, how are your defensive skills?” the sister asks.

“Uh, they’re okay I guess,” Bobby says, scratching into his short blond hair, “Why?”

“Come fight with me.”

“Wha?”

“Fight with me. We need to practice.”

Bobby puts a game piece down and stands up. “For what?” he asks.

“Saving the world or something.”

“Uhh…’kay.”

“Come outside.”

Sammy perks his head up. “Me, too?” he asks softly.

“No,” Mary tells him. “You’re too young, sorry. Bobby is getting old and strong enough that he can help. Come, Bobby. We’ll go behind our house.”

“Okay.”

Bobby sheds his plaid shirt and follows Mary outside. Cas must have taken Ellen back in since the garden is empty, but the Nephilim pass all of that and go further away. Bobby cracks his knuckles and twists his head to the side, facing Mary but backing away.

“Now you gotta be easy with me,” he warns. “I’m not as strong as you and I bet you could really hurt me.”

“We’ll see. You can have the first move.”

“Cool. Thanks, sis.”

Bobby immediately holds his hands together, brings them up close to his head as if he was swinging an imaginary baseball bat, then releases an invisible ball of energy towards Mary. She deflects it with her palm and sends it spinning to the ground, where it explodes into a foot-wide crater.

“Good,” she says with a smile, “But can you work all of the elements?”

With two fingers extended, Mary shoots small fireballs out in a gun-like motion. Bobby easily pushes them away by swiping his hands at them.

“Try to counter with the inverse element,” Mary suggests, taking a quick break between firing but immediately begins again. Bobby holds his tongue between his teeth and conjures bursts of water from his palms. He extinguishes the fire and smiles with pride.

“Piece o’ cake!” he beams.

“That was only a warm up. Show me something else.”

“All right, then.”

Bobby brings his wings out. They extend and glitter all sorts of sparkling greys in the evening sun, but soon turn to blurs when his flies up several feet. With each flap, waves of icy rain spray down onto Mary. The pieces are large and quite sharp. She, too, opens her wings to cover herself from the hail. The icicles shred into her feathers and she winces, but retaliation is in order—she flies into the air and hits him with an energy ball. It nearly sends him crashing to the Earth but he’s able to stay up and send another attack to his sister. They battle back and forth for a while, until Bobby realizes he’s far too worn out.

“Enough, enough,” he groans, fluttering back to the ground. He shakes out his tattered feathers, then puts two fingers on his scalp and everything is healed. “You’re better than me.”

“It wasn’t a matter of being better,” Mary tells him. “This was training. We both need to be the strongest that we can.”

“Okay, well, I’m gonna go to bed.”

“All right. Good night, Bobby.”

The boy heads inside but Mary stays out. Her body is quite scraped up and sore from their sparring, so she touches her head and heals up, too, only some of her pain doesn’t go away.

“That’s odd,” she thinks, a little more than curious. The aching is only in her chest, so she touches her sternum and tries to heal again, but she’s unsuccessful once more. She smooths her palm over one of her breasts and feels that the end is quite tender. “I don’t like this at all.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Cas…come to bed…”

It’s quite late. The Nephilim are settled peacefully in their beds but their parents’ room isn’t as successful. Dean is trying to sleep, blankets scrunched up all around him and eyes closed, but Cas has been sitting on the edge of the bed for a while and interrupting that. His reading lamp is on but he’s just staring at the wall.

“Cas…”

Weakly, Dean reaches out across the mattress and touches Cas with his fingertips. The angel’s smooth, ever-30-something body is nude except for a pair of briefs.

“Our children are changing,” Cas says at last. His voice is dry.

“Growing up,” Dean mutters, trying to lift his lids to peek at his lover. Cas doesn’t move.

“Yes,” he continues, “But…but they are really changing. I didn’t anticipate this.”

“It’s gonna happen…sorry. The human parts are always gonna…ch-aange…”

“And I…” Cas looks back at Dean. His eyes are sad. “And I keep thinking about the future.”

“Told you not to future-fuck.”

“I know, but I still do,” Cas sighs. “It’s impossible to avoid the thoughts. They’re going to be with me forever. The five of us will go on eternally, but…”

“Cas, stop. Just try to get some sleep. You’re getting upset for nothing.”

Cas decides to lay down in a fetal position and face Dean, his hands touching the man’s arm just a little. Dean sees that his eyes are red with silent tears. “Cas…” He puts a hand on Cas’ head and delicately plays with his hair. Cas sniffs and closes his eyes.

“I’m going to lose you,” the angel whimpers.

“Stop worrying,” Dean tells him, trying to be as gentle as possible. “There’s no reason to get worked up right now. We’ve got this whole other mess to deal with.”

“I’m…I’m aware.”

“Cas, please. We’re still light years away from that. Shh.” Dean leans over and gives Cas a tiny kiss on the nose. “Try to sleep,” he whispers. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Luckily, they manage to fall asleep shortly thereafter and remain so until morning. However, one bedroom over, Mary has been _seemingly_ snoozing but secretly awake and bothered. The sudden tenderness of her nipples has caused some alarm and even more investigation. Tucked away in bed, she pulls up her tank top to let her supple bosom breathe. The size has never meant anything to her or the possibilities of self-manipulating. Mary is worried about the change and begins feeling all over her breasts. It doesn’t take long for her to realize that a light touch along the end of her nipple is _oddly satisfying_.

“What…”

She stares with her eyes wide open, unsure of how to react. She’s never felt any sort of sexual pleasure before so you can imagine the conflict going on within her. Only her ceiling is around to hear her startled questions.

“How…what is this?”

Her thumb and index finger press around her nipple and squeeze lightly, sending chills down her spine and new heat between her legs.

“Some sort of black magic,” she wonders. “A problem, a curse, but…”

It doesn’t matter what she could hypothesize because it feels _good_. She can’t stop rubbing her chest now. Both hands on both breasts, she squeezes and strokes in firm, full motions. She leans back into the bed and relaxes, unable to control herself. Then, as the blood flow increases at her crotch as if calling to her, she pauses for a moment and starts to run one hand down there. It smooths down her firm stomach and passes her hips, but just as she begins her journey through the unchartered domain, her phone rings.

“Oh, dear.”

Startled out of her arousal, she immediately snatches the phone and sees that it’s Crowley calling. Of course her first response is frustration, but as her privates are still heated, a twinge runs through her body and she finds herself answering.

“Crowley.”

“ _Think about what we said yet?_ ”

“No.”

“ _My mother isn’t going to stop, you know. Aunty Moose isn’t the only one she’ll find. You’d better make some headway if you want to sort this out.”_

“I won’t be _intimidated_ by you,” Mary hisses in a short whisper. She works hard to ignore the feelings in her body.

“ _Intimidated?”_ Crowley asks. There’s a soft laugh to his voice. “ _Oh, that’s the last goal here. I’m actually hoping that by stooping to your level, we can both get what we want. We’ve been through this. Just let me out and we’ll stop mother before she kills everyone you know and love.”_

“You believe me to be an idiot,” Mary growls. “I would never agree to a deal like that. I thought I made myself clear. Please stop calling me!”

The other side falls silent. Mary presses her knees together and holds her breath, waiting for a response from Crowley. It takes several painful moments.

“ _I like it when you get angry_.”

“What?”

A tight lump forms in Mary’s throat.

“ _When you were little and we_ played _together down here, I saw a glimpse of your power…I like the idea of you using it for bad. Imagine what you could do with a little anger.”_

Mary’s nostrils flare as she inhales sharply. There are many things she wants to say, but she keeps them to herself. Yes, if a Nephilim focuses their power on evil things, they could singlehandedly destroy the entire world. That’s a big responsibility for them to carry, but Mary is all right with this. She’s come to terms with it hears ago and knows that she will always work for the forces of good instead of evil. When she spars with Bobby, she’s harnessing natural elements to protect those who are weaker than her from bastards like Crowley.

“Stop calling me,” she says, immediately before hanging up. The phone falls onto her top sheet and she tries to shake the bad feelings away. The hand which remained on her breast now slides away. “No more of this,” she sighs to herself. “It must be a trick, and I won’t fall for anything of that sort.”

Unable to sleep, she decides to get up and pass the time constructively. She wraps up in a robe and goes out into the war room, which is void of any activity. Everyone is well asleep by now.

As she walks through the bunker, her feet carry her to the entrance. She snaps through the security system easily and finds herself in the garden that Cas takes care of. The moon is high above and casting thin shadows onto the ground. Barefoot, Mary walks through the many, many plants that her mother has planted over the years. Giant rosebushes, fluffy peonies, trellises full of green peapods and a grove of tomatoes.

The words that Cas spoke to Ellen earlier ring into Mary’s head now. She feels poorly about it. Ellen is mommy’s little girl now and Mary is the blossoming brainiac, too busy wrapped up with her job and her own pursuits to help garden with her mom.

Sighing sadly, Mary continues to walk through the garden. Even in the middle of night’s cloak you can see how colorful and beautiful it is. What makes Cas such a fantastic gardener?

_Snap!_

A branch is stepped on somewhere close by. Mary’s body locks up and she looks around, scanning for any signs of life. There’s a gentle shifting of leaves up ahead, just beyond a blackberry bush. Mary takes a few long, silent steps around it, hands at the ready to send waves of celestial energy at whoever might be there, when suddenly—

“Aah! Mary!”

“Uncle Sam! What are you doing?”

Sam is standing at the bush, presumably minding his own business and fully dressed. He looks unchanged from earlier and just as exhausted. Regardless, he smiles.

“I couldn’t sleep so I was getting a nice, fresh snack from the garden. I guess you’re feeling the same way?”

Mary nods. “I’m sorry…”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing,” says Sam. “You aren’t Rowena McLeod. It’s not your fault. And even so, we’re working on it and staying…” His voice fades as he looks into Mary’s eyes. It’s hard to be uplifting after such a terrible event. “Positive. We’re staying positive. Right?”

Mary nods again, softer this time. “Right,” she agrees in a small voice. “Um…Uncle Sam, I…”

“Hm?”

Sam tosses a few berries into his mouth. He offers some to Mary but she shakes her head.

“I’m worried,” she says.

“I know, I am, too. But I we can get through this—“

“Not just about that.”

Sam pauses. “What’s wrong?”

“I, my…it’s…”

Mary puts her hands on her stomach and looks down almost as if in shame. Sam touches her shoulder. “Mary? What’s wrong?”

“Something is changing inside me,” she whispers, “and I don’t know what.”

As soon as Sam hears that, his demeanor changes completely. He relaxes, though keeping his hand on her shoulder, and lets out a casual chuckle. “You’re growing up, that’s all. Things will change. Talk to your parents about it.”

But Mary’s attitude hasn’t improved at all. She looks up at Sam with sad, narrow eyes and shakes her head. “No, I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s…it’s not good.”

“Mary, trust me. I’m human. You’re half human. _Things will change_. It’s nothing to be worried about. Don’t let it keep you up all night, though. Talk to your parents about it tomorrow. They’ll clear it up.”

Mary frowns sadly.

“I bet you could really use some sleep,” Sam continues in a tender voice. “Try to go back to bed. You’ll feel better tomorrow, okay?”

“Well, okay…”

She turns around to go back inside, leaving her uncle out there. As she trudges through the garden and towards the door to her home, she keeps looking behind until Sam disappears. Now she has to resist touching herself all night. No good can come from a force _that_ great, right?

“HEY!”

Just before she goes inside, Sam’s voice shouts into the air. There is the sound of a great scuffle. Mary darts back into the garden immediately.

“Sam?” she calls out, racing through the plants she has seen three times tonight. It sounds like branches snapping and people grunting—a fight?

“Sam?!”

Heart in her throat, Mary zooms to the blackberry bush and sees Sam wrestling with a humanoid figure she can’t quite make out. It doesn’t appear to be a demon, but it has incredible strength and Sam is quickly losing.

“SAM!”

Mary screams and jumps into the brawls. She pulls the entity off of Sam, whose face has been battered and bloodied by it, which turns its attention to her instead. Its entire body is wrapped up in a tight, dark shroud that prevents her from seeing even the slightest facial feature. Using only fists, it grabs from Mary’s hair and punches her in the face. Being the skilled fighter that she is, most of the punches are avoided, though a few strike her. Obviously this is no ordinary foe and does not deserve any sympathy, so Mary sweep kicks their feet beneath them then squats to the ground and claps her hand over its supposed face. With a rush of bright grey light, the entity is engulfed in black flames and fizzles out with a scream.

Panting, Mary falls onto her butt. As soon as she regains enough awareness to realize what just happened, she crawls to Sam’s side and touches two fingers to his forehead. His wounds are instantly healed and he opens his eyes.

“It’s dead,” says Mary. “Whatever it was.”

Trying to be stoic, Sam reached out to Mary and wipes blood from her nose. “Are you all right?” he asks.

“I’m fine. But…”

Sam groans softly and stands up. He puts his face in his hands.

“Uncle Sam? Do you have any idea what that was? Or why it attacked you?”

Stiffly, Sam says, “I don’t know, but it was the same thing that killed Crystal.”


	7. Chapter 7

 

“Why were you outside by yourself, Sam?!”

Dean is angry and upset when he finds out what happened last night. He paces with his palm over his forehead.

“I had no idea that was going to happen,” says Sam. “It was an honest mistake. At least we know how dangerous it is now.”

“This is _really_ bad,” Dean groans. Cas touches his side. “Huh?”

“We have to put emotions aside,” the angel suggests. “This new monster has to be stopped. We’ve been lucky for this long, but…”

“I know,” Dean interrupts. “Where do we start?”

As soon as Mary gets the chance, she slips away from the commotion and immediately finds herself going back to Hell. She storms into the throne room and interrupts Crowley’s boredom nap.

“That you, Mary?” he asks in groggy voice, perking his head up from the throne.

“You know for damn well it’s me!”

“There’s that Winchester energy.”

“Don’t be cute, Crowley!” Mary goes up to the black cage and points an angry finger. “You’ve got agents out to kill us!”

“ _I’ve_ got nothing,” Crowley smirks.

“You’re mother. You’re mother has some creature that none of us know about out for our heads.”

“Oh, mother can’t possibly kill you. You mean your human family.”

Mary takes a deep breath. “Yes,” she hisses. “My—human—family.”

“So? What do you plan on doing about it?”

Crowley props his head up on his palm, raising an eyebrow. Mary stares at the floor with a scowl. “Mmrkkarrwwthhuu,” she mutters incoherently.

“What’s that?” Crowley taunts.

“ _I’ll make a deal with you_.”

Her eyes glare at the king of Hell and flash grey for a moment. The words nearly hurt her.

“One more time,” Crowley says with a chuckle.

“I’ll _make_ —a _deal_ —with _you_.”

“I love it when a Winchester says that to me!”

“Enough,” Mary interrupts. “You can joke about it later. I,” she swallows and her voice breaks softly, “I need your help. If I open this box, _restrain you_ but let you out, will you help me find and kill your mother? _Only_ to be put back into this box and left here for the rest of eternity.”

“I do,” Crowley sneers. “And do you, Mary Winchester, take this deal to be your awfully rotten deal?”

Mary’s nose twitches. “I do,” she whispers.

The air within the throne room changes. It feels a little bit colder now. Mary’s uncertainty suddenly creeps up on her too late and she hesitates.

“Go on, then,” says Crowley.

Mary holds her breath and slowly extends a pointed finger to the front of the black cage. She runs it from top to bottom, creating a fine line of glowing light along the path. This opens a door that slowly swings open. The moment Mary steps within, she snarls at Crowley and says, “No funny business.”

Crowley, quite surprised, opens his palms in surrender and merely says, “No funny business here.”

This is the perfect opportunity for Mary to clap on a pair of demon-warded handcuffs. She locks together Crowley’s wrists in front of himself, then grabs the chain in the middle and jerks him out of the box, leaving it open and empty.

Without a word, the Nephilim takes Crowley out of the throne room and down a hall where the portal is open to get back upstairs. She attempts to jump into it with him, but a strong, invisible force pushes her out.

“What?!”

She tries again, only to be deflected once more. Crowley laughs.

“Oh, you really do need me, don’t you?”

“Why?” Mary asks, glaring at him.

“The other side of this portal doesn’t happen to be demon warded, does it?”

“Well it’s—“ Mary stops herself midsentence before explaining where they would be. “Yeah of course. _Oh_. Right.”

“Riiight,” Crowley laughs with a shitty smile. “Now we see, hmm?”

“Don’t worry, I have other ways. Hold on.”

Mary suddenly claps her hand onto Crowley’s bicep while simultaneously opening up her great, silvery wings. They expand in an instant and Crowley lets out a pained hiss. He tries to cover his eyes but the handcuffs and Mary’s grip have him unable to move. Mary bends her knees and springs off into the air, transcending planes at a multi-directional level. Their bodies fly to the next layer, out of Hell, and come tumbling out onto grass. Mary’s wings crumple beneath her, fold up and disappear.

“Euggh, fuuaa!”

Crowley falls face down, where he suffers the aftereffects of planar travel, Mary’s wings—and a mouthful of dirt. Mary gets up quite easily and dusts herself off, then kicks Crowley over onto his back, grabs the chain of the handcuffs and yanks him up again.

“I would have grabbed something else to wear if I knew we would be doing _that!_ ” Crowley yells.

“Sorry!” Mary says, faking innocence. “It came up quicker than I realized!”

“Now—where—are—we?”

“Does it matter?”

Mary tugs the cuffs and they start to walk. They’re in the middle of a painfully sunny field, not too far from an old building. Mary holds up her free hand and focuses on the structure, her eyes turning silver for a moment.

“What are you doing?” Crowley asks, tagging behind.

“Checking for signs of life.”

“ _Angels_ ,” he huffs.

“I’m not an angel,” Mary says. She drops her hand and walks quicker. “Come on, king of Hell.”

“I regret this already.”

“Why? Just a few minutes ago, you were all smiles to go with me.”

“Yes, but ‘just a few minutes ago’ _you_ were frowning and angry and _bemoaning_ having to work with me. Now _suddenly_ I’m your pet man!”

“Pet man?” Mary laughs. “You’re not a man. You’re less of a man than I am an angel!”

“ _You’re not a man_ ,” Crowley mocks.

They walk through tall grass that turns out to be dying cornstalk. The sound of Crowley’s dress shoes crunching over brittle plants is softer than Mary’s lace-up hunting boots. He follows behind at a slower pace, too, grumbling and grouching while wearing the same face that Mary did, in fact, have just a few minutes ago.

As they get closer to the house, Crowley’s demeanor changes. Watching Mary’s lean yet muscular, though curvy figure clade in snug jeans, a tight black tank top and a flannel shirt (not to mention a fat belt around her waist and thigh with knives and all sorts of average hunter tools) has the king of Hell mesmerized. He wets his lips.

“When did you fill out?”

“Fill what out.”

“Your figure.”

“I don’t know,” Mary answers quickly. She senses the change in Crowley’s tone and grows moderately uncomfortable. A slight twinge between her legs causes her to focus extra hard on the target ahead. There’s still a short ways to walk. She forces her voice to be more aggressive as she attempts to keep control of the conversation. “Does it matter?!”

“No, not at all,” Crowley smirks. He eyes her rear without her knowing. “Just curious, you know. All that time spent downstairs thinking you were still a wee girl, only to find that you’re quite the woman.”

“I’m no more a woman than I am an angel,” Mary declares, tugging on the handcuffs for effect. There is a gentle nagging in her chest now. She feels her nipples tighten inexplicably.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Crowley asks, changing the subject much to Mary’s relief.

“There.”

“I know _there_. But what’s _there_?”

“An old house that nobody’s been in for a long time. I can keep you there and we can work out our deal without my…my family ever knowing.” She mumbles the last part due to shame.

Crowley gives a giggle. “I do love to know that you’re sneaking behind daddy Dean and mummy Cassie’s back.”

“Sam, too,” Mary sighs.

“Ohhh, _poooor giiiiirl_.”

“SHUT UP!”

Mary stops in her tracks and pulls the handcuffs tightly, nearly tripping Crowley over himself.

“What the bloody Hell was that for?!” the demon snarls loudly, glaring at Mary with a face mixed with anger and shock.

“For being a jerk!” Mary shouts. “Why do you have to be so snarky and animated and—and _irritating_ about everything?! I don’t know why Sam and my dad didn’t kill you at some point!”

“They tried, Mary, they tried.”

Mary touches her forehead, gives a sigh then keeps walking. They finally make it to the house, which is a dilapidated piece of shit and likely uninhabited since before Mary was born.

“Lovely,” Crowley comments as Mary flicks open the creaky door with her telekinesis.

The Nephilim makes a gun with her index finger and thumb, then points it to an open space on the floor and sends a thin beam of fire out, scorching the wood. She burns a devil’s trap there.

“You really have been honing your power, haven’t you?” Crowley asks. Mary’s throws him to middle of the trap as her reply. “Rude!” He struggles to stand with his hands bound.

Mary chuckles. “Our deal never said I had to be nice to you,” she says.

“Neither do I.”

“Yeah but what can you do? It doesn’t really matter, huh? That being said—let’s get down to business. Where is your mother?”

“I don’t know.”

Mary tightens her jaw. “Then what good is this?!”

Keeping calm, Crowley says, “We work together to find her. She’s a witch, and not just a regular one. A very, very, very, _very_ nasty one.”

Mary sighs. She drags a dusty chair from the one corner and pushes it over the devil’s trap for Crowley to sit on.

“A generous heart, aren’t you?” Crowley smirks.

“Shut. Up.” The Nephilim folds her arms and turns to look out the window. “I’m not here to entertain you. I’m here to protect my family. Now what was that monster that tried to kill my uncle?”

“I seriously have no idea. It’s something that mother has come up with. “

Mary turns around quickly, her braid whipping around her shoulder, and she glares at the demon king. “THEN HOW DO I FIND HER?!”

“Look, there are ways . We can find her, we can kill her. It takes time and effort but I _think_ you might be able to pull it off. What do you say?”

“Whatever I have to do.”

“First, we need three things—a branch from the Tree of Life, a brick from the Sphynx’s inner sanctum, and…well…”

“What?”

“The grace of a Nephilim.”

Mary opens her eyes wide. “All of it?” she asks.

“No, just some.”

“The spell to find and kill your mother just happens to include Nephilim grace?”

Crowley clears his throat. He sits on the nasty chair and rattles his handcuffs impatiently. “Why do you think I asked for _your_ help?

Mary narrows her eyes now and takes a step closer to Crowley. There’s still a pinching sensation in her chest and crotch, but she’s too focused on the tasks ahead to care. “Okay,” she agrees. “I’ll get you these things. I’ll uphold my end of the bargain but _you_ hold yours!”

“What else _can_ I do?”

“I don’t know, but you stay here,” Mary says. “I’ll be back.”

She flaps away and leaves Crowley alone, but it doesn’t take long for a certain redhead to come through the door.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” Crowley yawns.

“What made you so certain?” Rowena sings. “You _know_ I can’t come when _she’s_ here. I was waiting, waiting without leaving my mark on anything.” She starts to walk around the house, examining the broken furniture and old, faded photos on the wall. “For an ‘all powerful being’ who seems to have mastered the arts of stopping and killing anything she wants, hah! She doesn’t know much about witches!”

“I know,” Crowley says, smirking. “Didn’t even occur to her, and I accidently said the W word.”

“No matter!” Rowena smiles. “Did you get her to do my shopping for me?”

“Oh, yes. Certainly.”

“Ah, that’s me boy!” She steps over the devil’s trap with ease and touches Crowley’s head. “My son,” she coos with pride.

“But you can’t do anything about _this_ can you?” Crowley asks, lifting up his restrained hands.

“Not yet, not yet. Patience, dear Fergus.”

Crowley snorts. “Crowley.”

“Fergus.”

“ _Enough_ ,” Crowley growls. “I’ll get you when she’s found them.”

“Ah, yes. That’s wonderful, simply wonderful. Things only a Nephilim could find.” Rowena leers at Crowley with a thin smile on her dark lips. “Things only a Nephilim can be killed with.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Where is she?!”

Dean has been pacing in the war room since Mary disappeared while his family sits at the table playing Sorry!.

“She’s doing her Mary thing,” Bobby says. He turns to Sam. “Can we play something that doesn’t SUCK?”

“Stop,” Sam warns firmly. “Look, your dad is tense and I need to keep Ellen and Sammy busy.”

“What about Risk?”

“We can play Risk later. With your mom.”

Cas nods from the other side of the table. He taps a game piece and weakly says, “I’m sorry.” Sammy and Ellen laugh. Dean, however, is still pacing.

“What’s with that girl?” he asks tensely. “Every time things get weird, she disappears!”

Sam stares at his brother. “She’s a Winchester,” he says.

“Ugh…right…stupid girl.” Dean takes a stiff breath and rubs his forehead, trying to correct himself. “No, no. She’s not stupid. Actually she’s too smart for her own good.”

“I agree,” says Cas. “Dean, please sit down. You’re stressing yourself out for nothing.”

Ignoring Cas’ comment, Dean takes out his phone and pulls up a number. “I’m gonna call the bookstore again, just in case.”

“Is she supposed to be at work?” Sam asks.

“Not today, but maybe she’s turned up.” He dials out, standing still now. “Hey, this is Dean, Mary Winchester’s dad.”

Bobby nudges Sam’s arm. “Is Mary gonna be okay?”

“Sure she is,” Sam tells him, nodding slightly. “Whatever she’s doing probably makes a lot of sense, we just don’t know yet.”

“But what about that monster that attacked you? D’you think she got hurt by one of them?”

Sam and Cas both say, quite sharply, “ _No_.”

“Okay, okay…”

Dean hangs up his phone looking grumpy as ever. He finally joins them at the table but does little more than rap his fingers on the surface. Cas reaches out to touch his hand but Dean retracts.

“They’ll let me know if she comes by,” he says.

“And you’re sure you can’t track her phone?” asks Sam.

“No, it’s off. Damn girl knows what we’d do. Shit.”

“ _Daddy!_ ” Ellen peeps. “Don’t say that.”

“I know, sorry. I just…I just don’t know what to do.”

Cas stands up all of the sudden. “I know,” he announces. “I will try to pick up on her essence and track her. It’s a longshot, but I may be successful.”

* * *

Egypt. Mary has read extensively on the subject but this is her first time visiting. Upon arriving, she’s able to focus on the task at hand instead of being distracted by the sights. Her target is the Sphynx, no less.

She had originally sought to find the Tree of Life first, but the amount of research needed to accomplish that would involve the bunker’s library. She isn’t ready to tackle going home yet. No, not yet. She needs to let Crowley know that she’s serious.

“Crowley…”

Mary’s mind wanders a bit as she teleports up to the right shoulder of the Sphynx. It’s dark, and she clings to the old stone easily. She’s a nimble girl for sure, but one slip of the wrist and she almost tumbles. Better focus is required now.

There is a spot in a crease that feels tender to her. Not tender in way that any human could sense, since the structure is solid stone as far as they know. But to Mary, her fingertips graze a strange power. It’s warm and tries to pull her in, so she doesn’t hesitate at all and allows it to. As if warping dimensions momentarily, her entire body is sucked through a narrow slot. This tosses her to a small chamber.

“Oof,” Mary grunts, hitting the floor. She gets to her feet and looks around. It’s far too dark to see, so she conjures a bit of fire in her palm to act as a torch. The room is hardly bigger than her bedroom, and the walls are covered with perfectly preserved frescoes. Her hieroglyphic skills are a bit lax currently so she isn’t able to decipher all of the writing. There’s an empty torch at one end of the room and she shifts her flames into it, giving her the use of both hands once more.

Beside the torch stands a most curious door. It has no handle but Mary knows it’s a means of passing through because it’s a different piece of rock, shaped just like a door. In the center there is a picture that Mary can only describe as a wheel, similar to a gameshow or a carnival attraction. It is painted with bold colors and divided into quarters. The first one is just a person, but the next is a person with wings and blue eyes.

“An angel,” Mary mutters to herself, stepping closer to the door at a slow and cautious rate. Below the angel, there is a humanoid with black eyes and strange, spiked bat wings. Mary recognizes this as an attempt at picturing a demon. “Crowley doesn’t look like that sort of demon…”

The final drawing is almost identical to the angel, only the figure has just one wing and the eyes are grey. Obviously, this is directed toward her folk. What sort of intelligent being created this room?

Mary steps directly in front of the door and realizes that there is a single, smooth tile beneath her feet. It illuminates the moment she shifts her weight onto it.

“Shit,” she mumbles, but doesn’t move.

The tile wiggles slightly, then stops. She hadn’t noticed before, but there is a thin bar of gold hanging from the center of the door-wheel. It’s brought to her attention because it starts to spin around erratically. It ceases to move and points to the drawing of the Nephilim. This incredibly technology is able to detect what sort of creature she is!

The door slides up, making a terrible grinding noise as it does so. Mary wonders the last time it has opened, if ever. Regardless, she progresses through finds herself in an even smaller room. No light again, so she brings another flame out. There are more hieroglyphics in this room which she tries to memorize so she can look them up later. The only other object before her is a narrow pedestal, topped with a single brick. That is exactly what Crowley spoke of.

Without hesitation, Mary picks up the brick and tries to teleport away. Nothing happens. Apparently the room is warded to a certain degree. She searches around for a way out, and after a few minutes, there is another weakness in the wall. She eases through this one just as she did with the first, and finds herself slipping out of the Sphynx’s head. The moment she leaves, she flies back to where Crowley is being held.

In the meantime, Cas has successfully picked up on Mary’s essence. It has brought him all the way to Egypt. He has insisted on going alone, not just because it could be dangerous but also so reserve his power. These days, he finds himself being drained easier than before. The last thing he wants is for his children to use their energy on him.

Cas finds the sensitivity in the Sphynx’s right shoulder, too. In fact, he finds it much quicker than Mary but he is also pursuing her essence. He falls into the small room. The torch is still lit, and Cas can tell that it’s fire originally from Mary. The desire to find Mary is so strong that he barely stops to consider anything, except he _does_ take a moment to read the hieroglyphics. Surely he knows them fluently.

His stomach tightens after reading them and he walks to the door with the wheel. It has closed again. The golden bar spins around and lands on the figure with the two wings, naturally. Instead of opening as it did for Mary, the tile slides out from underneath Cas and he goes plummeting down a narrow passageway. His body is pushed and slid through all sorts of terrible twists and turns, not to mention awful spells designed especially for angels. By the time he is shot out of the Sphynx’s rear end, his wings are torn and his body is badly damaged. He has just enough strength to _barely_ fly back to the bunker. He crashes on the front door and weakly manages to call Dean.

“ _Cas? You there?_ ”

“Front…door…”

“ _Okay, coming right away_.”

Dean passes through the security points on his way out of the bunker and finds Cas in a heap on the floor. “Cas?!” He is followed by Sam and Bobby, who help pull the angel inside and to his bedroom. Sitting up in bed now, Cas’ dark eyes look at Dean.

“It’s bad,” he mumbles.

“What happened to you?” Dean asks. He sits down next to the angel and takes his hand. “Bobby, heal him.”

The young boy walks up to his mother but he pulls away. “No,” Cas insists. “I will heal. Save your strength.”

“But, mom,” Bobby says, looking sad. “You’re really hurt and my power is limitless, you’ve said it yourself.”

“Your power is limitless as long as nobody uses a spell specifically to target Nephilim. I…I don’t know the nature of the circumstance, but…but Mary seems to be seeking the three sacred items that can kill Nephilim.”


End file.
